Slide this is how it goes shy stumble into poppy red we glissade past the one real thing rings of light open gray- green sky leaves a stain to our topspin sets loose the torpor we gently wrap ourselves around the occasion testing our press of sail this rapport like rapeseed oil slicked down a canvas of skin and bark we say "its not that bad" "we�re sumptuous" murmur or murder hard to say which a sunbath of codeine or code swept back like hair held fast by a ruby pin glinting in the wind a trace opiate we could do worse